


round five

by takesguts



Series: hold me down [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Frottage, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jealous!Ian, M/M, Minor Violence, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 11:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8371255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takesguts/pseuds/takesguts
Summary: Its just, Ian loves Mickey so damn much. Too damn much.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is kind of a prequel/background information to dark, and heart obsessed. I wanted to maybe provide a little bit of background to their relationship, shed a bit of light. 
> 
> In this fic, and its sister fic, Ian is twenty three, Mickey twenty four. They have been together, on and off, for about ten years. I took the liberty of creating my own sort of universe for this, but some mentions and incidences will be canon inspired. I.E, Ian's bipolar, the basic timeline of them as teenagers - Ian leaving, Mickey's dad catching them, etc. 
> 
> This is only a touch of what the other story will delve into, but I couldnt get the scene out of my head. SO I wrote it! 
> 
> I imagine this taking place in mid September, maybe. The other story is occurring during June/July thus far, and in that they have been separated for three months. Things to keep in mind!

Outside the front door, a guy sitting off to Ian's left takes a long drag of a blunt.

 

  
  
"You lookin for your boy?"

 

  
  
He eyes Ian, eyes his baseball bat, looking amused.

 

  
  
"Was upstairs last time I saw him," the guy mentions, exhaling smoke, "with Damien."

 

  
  
There's a good chance the guy is just trying to get him riled - probably even one of Damien's runners. Probably knows that when it comes to Mickey Milkovich, if you wanna watch a good fight you just have to pick at the lock on Ian's caged beast. Most everyone on the south side knows this.

 

  
  
Ten years is a long time, for this kinda place.

 

  
  
The comment makes Ian's skin crawl, regardless, and he has half a fucking mind to take a swing at this guy just to shut him the fuck up. Something black is oozing in his gut; something ugly and toxic and thick like tar. It's coating his insides, the back of his throat.

 

  
  
Instead, he jerks the door open and he's trying to focus on the connection of his hand wrapped about the handle of the bat, the way the wilted tape is sticky against his palm. In his head, the heady sensation of rage is directing his every move - narrowing in on finding Mickey, and it takes all of him not let himself black out.

 

  
  
It doesn't take him long; Mickey is a creature of habit. Quietest corners, away from the press of bodies. Usually with only one or two people. Always near where the drugs are.

 

  
  
This time wouldn't be any different; and he's already got a confirmed clue. Damien's the dealer tonight, one Ian expressly forbids Mickey from seeing when they're together. The low life has a habit of sticking his hands in places they don't belong, must have caught wind of their break from a customer. It's only been two weeks though, and this one isn't a real break; Mickeys been texting him everyday, was begging for Ian's dick on the phone last night. Damien is a dead man.

 

  
  
They're no longer upstairs, if they ever even were, but it's still only takes the red head a few minutes to find them. They're in the furthest back room, it's relatively crowded but Damien is seated on the big recliner that's tucked into the corner. Mickeys next to him, sitting on the arm.

 

  
  
It's clear what Damien is doing, trying to show off his claim, have Mickey near him like some goddamn prize piece. That he's got Ian Gallaghers boy practically in his lap.

 

  
  
Stupid fuck, Ian is going to destroy him. He's across the room in seconds, and it takes all of his willpower to just not start swinging.

 

  
  
"Mick," he says, all he has to say, it's a command.

 

  
  
"Shit," Damien swears, scrambling over the back of the chair. Ian snags the back of his shirt, shoving him toward the wall.

 

  
  
"I don't know where you got this bright idea," ian says, cheerful and down right dangerous, "but you should have left it alone."

 

  
  
"man, he found me," the dealer stammers, backing up, "didn't mean nothing."

 

  
  
"Yeah?" Ian challenges, eyes hard, and his heart is beating wildly, erratically. He can feel Mickey standing behind him, a bit to his left. "Is that fucking right? And you thought that meant you could get your dick sucked huh?"

 

  
  
Somewhere, Ian can hear Mickey telling him to cool it, nothing happened, but the words are damn near whispers compared to the deafening screaming in his head. Screaming to get out, for violence and blood, and all he can think about is this guy pushing Mickey to his knees, touching him, offering him a treat in exchange and Mickey would never but the vision is too vivid and -

 

  
  
The first blow cracks loudly, right against the guys kneecap and then it's two, three, four - back side shoulders and Ian's taunting him, laughing in the rush of lust and possession that is flooding in his veins.

 

  
  
"You ever fucking talk to him again, so much as look in his fucking direction," he's babbling, nonsense and obscenities and threats, "I swear to fucking god I fucking will kill you, you fucking pussy."

 

  
  
"That's enough."

 

  
  
Cool fingers slide around his wrist and it's practically Pavlovian the way Ian's body responds. Immediately he drops the bat, turning to his boyfriend hands grabbing at his hips.

 

  
  
"Mick," he repeats, still so furious and he wants to grab his throat, wants to throw him over his shoulder, "what the fuck were you thinking? Fuck you Mickey, fuck you."

 

  
  
In his grasp, firm and solid and damn near bruising, mickey is squirming. His pupils are blown, he's so high, ian can tell - probably an upper. He's grinning and affectionate - not pissed off at Ian's jealous display, instead trying to press up against him, fit himself along Ian's side.

 

  
  
There's a crowd now, and Damien's on his feet, cursing at them.

 

  
  
"Fucking freaks," he spits, but ian pays no mind.

 

  
  
"You came for me," Mickey murmurs, nosing along Ian's throat. He's apologizing, Ian can tell, and in some way the red head knows he's sorry in a vague sense of the term. But it's clear this was some sort of test, some sort of fucked up move in their game. Mickeys not pissed off at his jealousy, because that's what Mickey wanted.

 

  
  
The rush of anger and desire is so heavy that it makes Ian's breath stagger.

 

  
  
"Yeah," he growls, tightening his hands, thumbs pressing deep and painful; Mickey croons, rocking onto his tiptoes. "What'd you take?"

 

  
  
"Just some Mollie," he replies, looking pleased as fucking punch. So not the hard stuff. This really was planned.

 

  
  
Glancing around, Ian looks at the bystanders. Some look curious and amused, some uncertain and afraid. Good.

 

  
  
"All of you, any of you -" he calls, to the entire room, "stay. The fuck. Away."

 

  
  
With that, Ian pushes Mickey in front of him and guides him out of the house, hands never leaving his hips.

 

  
  
They make it to Ian's car around the block before they're on each other - Ian holding the dark haired boy up against his passenger door while Mickey ruts helplessly against him, hands everywhere on his arms, his shoulders, his chest.

 

  
  
"What are you doing," Ian grunts, using his fingers to yank Mickeys head back, so the older boy is forced to blink up at him, "you know - fuck you know I don't want you to see him for shit. Are you trying to fucking making me crazy?"

 

  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Mickey chants, a little desperate, "I'm - let me, let me make it up to you."

 

  
  
His voice is pure sex - liquid hot and suffocating. Only for him, he did this for him, to see if he would come. He will always come for Mickey, every fucking time. Any time, anywhere. Always. His.

 

  
  
"You're mine," he practically snarls, pressing his boyfriend harder against the door, one hand under his legs the other at the center of his collarbone, "all fucking mine."

 

  
  
He starts rolling his hips harder against Mickeys, fast and harsh, grinding their cocks together through denim. He snaps his hips like they're actually fucking, just holding Mickey down and making him take it.

 

  
  
"Yours," Mickey says, nodding frantically, "just yours Ian, I love you, I love you."

 

  
  
Groaning out loud, Ian does actually grab his throat at the sheer animalistic feeling he gets from hearing those words. He fucking loves Mickey too, so much, too goddamn much.

 

  
  
"Tell me again," he demands, "tell me your sorry."

 

  
At that, Mickey cries out, and Ian's gonna make him come all over himself, in his pants, like a dirty fucking boy.

 

  
  
"I'm sorry," he rasps, voice breathy as Ian's hand squeezes just a bit, "I'm so sorry, so sorry, I love you." He babbles mindlessly, trying to push his hips back but he has no leverage, is caged completely. Just how ian wants him, surrounded and consumed completely by him.

 

  
  
"That's it," Ian praises when Mickey starts gasping, telling him how Ian's gonna make him come, "that's it Mickey, come for me. Show me who makes you come."

 

  
  
"You, Ian, you make me come," he chants, whining, low and filthy and needy as he shakes through his orgasm.

 

  
  
"Fuck, that's good," ian breathes, glancing down to where the front of his boyfriends pants are now wet. He wants to take him out in public like this. Have everybody see what a messy thing he is for Ian. "That's so cute."

 

  
  
Eyes hooded, dazed and blissed, Mickey flushes and opens his mouth to let Ian lick his teeth.

 

  
  
"Home?" He asks, and it's a loaded question - can he come home with Ian, and Ian knows he's wondering if he's forgiven, if they're back at it.

 

  
  
Saying yes is easy; it's easy every time

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I may do more things like this, just snippets of scenes from their relationship over the years. But Im hoping to get the third chapter done this evening! 
> 
> Still in need of a beta. Comes with the privilege of seeing chapters early, and future knowledge. I am so nice, I swear! 
> 
> Thaaaank you all. :D 
> 
> takesguts.tumblr.com


End file.
